People of Means
by Grazehunter
Summary: What happens when everything you loved is taken away? For a certain Big Sister, it means extracting revenge. Told through the perspective of one of Rapture's most feared gate-keepers and through the narrative of the splicer who took it all for his own survival. Image by PsychicAbyss88


**Several Years Ago...**

A school of fish swam by as green grass flowed gently against the cracked glass. The water was dark, murky, and forbidding, an occasional great white shark surfacing here and there. I myself was hunched over a corpse, a tattered brown suit slumped over my cancerous skin. My eyes still retained an ounce of humanity, but who was I kidding?

My ribs were as prominent as cell doors, my face looked like it had been forced through a meat grinder, and the thin mat of hair that clung to my body was soggy old trash. A withered white rose hung by its stem, which was latched onto my right chest pocket. After all, a splicer's got to have some style.

I gave a hiss and began to walk down the dilapidated corridor, the glass barely keeping it together and the floor littered with puddles, boxes, valuables, money, cartridge shells, old diving suits, and of course...blood and rotting corpses. In the distance, I could see a whale swimming by, not a care in the world. A whale didn't thrive on ADAM. Murderous lunatics did.

The empty green trash can was a mere yard away. As I came up to it, siffling through the rubbish, I found what I was looking for. A battered-old lead pipe, the rust almost taking complete control of it. It would serve its purpose soon.

The Shamrock Cafe was once a gambling pit for the rich and wealthy. The scotch they served was to die for. But alas, the building was a shadow of its former glory. Broken windows, the tin exterior littered with bullet holes, it wasn't the kind of place a splicer would want to end up in.

I slid through the narrow crack that was once a rotating door to find a dozen or so men of various sizes. Most of them were wearing worn-down suits, but a few of them were much larger, the size of taxicabs with bloated stomachs, large muscles, and pin-sized heads. One of them was nursing a tommy gun in his calloused palms. He smirked.

"Welcome, I see we are all set?"

There was a murmur of yes's, and the brute splicer nodded his head, jutting it outwards. As we all turned to look, two figures could be made out in the light casted off by a broken lamp. One was a towering figure, a ghostly green shimmer where its head would have been. The other was much smaller, with two beady yellow eyes.

"I've been tracking her for days now. She's good. Knows where the Adam is and by this time, I bet you she's a walking treasure chest." The Brute smirked and turned to me.

"You're the fastest, so you can get the girl. Me and the rest of our gang will take out Mr. Daddy over there and be done with it."

I nodded, my hand trying to compress the lead pipe into a twig. I wasn't ready for this job. This was a job that you gave to a real splicer. Not me. But as my guilt arose, so did my hunger. I needed this Adam. Regardless of my morals, survival came first.

We began to stick to the alleyways, waiting for our chance to strike. The Big Daddy was a Bouncer by the looks of it. A heaving behemoth with a helmet practically built for an eight-eyed monster. The decoy was lying only a few yards away, a corpse of a guy beaten to death.

With a whale-like moan the Bouncer's outstretched, gloved hand was taken by a girl, who could be no more then ten. She wore a petite rose-colored dress, her dark brown hair tied in a neat ponytail. Her eyes glowed an eerie, lighthouse yellow as she skipped joyfully to the waiting corpse.

"More Angels Daddy," she said in a sing-song voice.

The pair halted over the decaying mass of flesh, the Bouncer standing guard as his charge stuck her needle lovingly into the creature we once called Frankie. As she did this, I could see the others moving in for the assault, pipes, machetes, plasmids, and even wrenches in tow. I myself looked at my own hand. It was already on fire, ready to melt the giant metal monster to his core.

The Little Sister just kept humming to herself, and after a moment or two, she took the needle out and grinned up. "Time to go Daddy."

"CHARGE!" came the sickening roar of the brute leader.

In an instant, the Bouncer's "eyes" turned from green to a deep red, his drill already reducing most of the foolish attackers to mush. I myself ran right for the girl, who was standing still, her voice gaping in a scream as I pulled her with my arm. The Daddy must have saw this, for the next thing I knew, my body flew in the air and crashed by a box of old fishing crates.

Getting back up, I could see that we had already lost half of our forces. But it was inevitable. A splicer unit would get reduced to maybe four or three guys before the actual Adam harvesting could commence. After all, there was never enough Adam to share.

The Brute howled in fury as his gun fired a barrage of bullets into the armored beast. The Bouncer was strong, and he took out another two, pounding their bodies into the ground. That was when I ran for the girl once more, wrestling for control of her arm. But she was tougher then I realized.

"Give me the Adam you little-"

But once again my body was lifted into the air as the Bouncer revved up his drill. My lead pipe had been tossed in the confusion, leaving me only one other choice. I let out an orange fire ball directly into the Bouncer's face, causing him to drop me.

Scrambling to my feet, I turned to face him, and let out a howling laugh. A rivet instantly rushed past my neck, grazing the tiny strands of hair that were growing by it. The projectile slammed directly into the brute splicer's chest. The next thing I know, he's soaring through the air, tommy gun still firing as he crashed into a dumpster.

I turned back to see that whoever was left had turned chicken and ran for it, leaving me to suffer the wrath of Big Daddy. So I did the only thing that I could. I dashed for the cover of an old plasmid shop.

The Bouncer gave a howl of fury and the clank of his metal boots sent shivers down my spine. I had to act fast or else I would end up another "angel" for those demented girls to harvest. From the vending machine, I could see a wire exposed, electricity zapping through its ripped cover.

Grabbing the cable, I found a puddle right in front of the store and laid my trap. The Bouncer was oblivious to my defense and sure enough, his metal boot landed with a splash.

To hear such a creature scream is to hack off a whale's tail in one sitting. Windows shattered, and the items off the shelves collapses in heaps. Daring a look, I saw the blue sparks of electrical energy dance around his spastic body until the behemoth fell back in one last groan.

"Gotcha," I hissed. Getting up from my crouched position, I could see that the glow in his body was gone. He was a corpse like the rest of us. And now I could harvest it. As I walked over to gather the reward, I could hear a sniffle.

Swiveling my head, I saw the Little Sister holding tightly to her doll, her yellow eyes brimming with tears. The doll was simple. Woven from various fabrics, the head adorned with little red lights to make it look like her former protector.

"You...You...made Mr. Bubbles go to sleep..."she choked.

"Oh lighten up kid!" I shrieked, no longer caring about loot but about the Adam lying in that syringe of hers. "_Death is death_. When will you realize that huh? You can't always live in that fantasy world of yours you know."

She backed up a few steps, but I continued my slow advance. She was so vulnerable, so innocent, and yet so rich in Adam that it would make a splicer survive for at least a year if he wasn't too careful.

"Gimme that!" I spat, grabbing the syringe from her tiny little hands.

She cried when I did that, trying to take it back as I held it over her head mockingly.

"If you want it you better grow taller missy," I teased, "because Big Daddy won't be coming anymore to save you."

I pushed her to the ground, grabbing a shard of glass from the floor. All I had to do was gut her like a fish, grab that slug and be done with it. As I did, I could hear her wailing like a trapped animal. She was mine now. All mine. I began to cackle madly as I advanced.

And that was when I heard it. The low groan a few blocks away. Turning my head, I could see a Rosie advancing up the street. Clearly the battle that had taken place earlier was drawing the scavengers. As much as I wanted to, common sense took hold of me. I had the needle, so all I had to do was run for it.

Though it seemed unlikely that the Rosie would care if I was harming another Little Sister, it was best to not take any chances. With a growl, I slapped the little girl with the shard, a wide slanted slit opening up. A trickle of blood flowed gently down her pale cheek, her eyes still focused on me.

"Next time, I'll kill you." I hissed and scrammed for it. As I passed the dumpster, I heard a groan and miraculously, the brute splicer had indeed survived. His hand was outstretched, his eyes pleading with me. "Please, help me."

I guffawed in his face. What did he take me for? An idiot?

"Are you insane? Why would I share the loot with you?"

And with that I skipped merrily down the alleyway, the riches of Rapture in the palm of my hand. And the cries of the little sister echoing throughout the alleyway.

"Mr. Bubbles?" The Little Sister said as she gently nudged her care-taker. He was still asleep, and as much as she tried, she knew it was in vain.

Mr. Bubbles would be sleeping with the fishes forever this time. She didn't notice the Rosie walking over the battlefield, his charge already gathering Adam from the lifeless husks around them.

"Mr. Bubbles? Don't go to sleep. We need to find more angels...don't go... please don't go..."

And as she cried, an emotion stirred deep within her. A meanie who wore no mask had done this to her. Had made Mr. Bubbles go to bed. Had destroyed everything. Already, she could feel the realization tear apart the fantasy dream she was living. White curtains became rusted walls of iron and bronze. The petite little angels became rotting corpses. Her Daddy, all in his shiny armor, became a rusted old monster, as lifeless as the cans of beans around him.

The emotion made her insides bubble with rage. Her eyes glowed brighter and the innocence she once held was no more. She wanted one thing and one thing only.

"I'll get him for you Mr. Bubbles," she whispered, "I'll get all of them..."


End file.
